


That day when Clint Barton tripped over a bag and his life changed

by madammina



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Others may appear later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-29 23:04:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3914005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madammina/pseuds/madammina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missions happen, you meet people after them.  People who have no idea who you are or why they should care. But they do.  But if they aren't SHIELD, they don't know what you do... should they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Stars burst in Clint’s eyes as his the palms of his hands rubbed into his eyes. the smell of coffee wafted around him, tentalizing out of touch. He could feel himself move slowly side to side as he shuffled forward.

“Sir!” someone finally shouted. Clint started, looking up. “Sir, your order?” the barista asked, though a smile started to appear on her face. “Workjuice?”

“Yes.” He muttered. 

“You don’t seem like the expresso type of guy. 3.50.” Clint fished a bill out of his pocket and shuffled over to the other side of the counter. As his eyes closed, he felt someone touch him. He instinctively grabbed their wrist.

“Sir? Your workjuice coffee?” The other barista said, her eyes wide. 

Clint let go.

“Sorry.” He muttered. “I just didn’t expect how fast you would be.”

“It’s… been five minutes. My apologies on the wait.” she said before scurrying off. Clint just sighed and started to shuffle towards the back.

SOMEHOW he’d gotten out of that last mission alive. This group called the ten rings had started to operate out of Hong Kong and had used kidnapping to raise money. Some diplomat’s kid was easy prey. The kid was ten, of course he was. He and Natasha had gone in, rescued the kid, and left. But Jetlag. Jetlag and someone cutting your bow so most of the time you had go hand to hand. One the one hand, less casualties. On the other, Natasha would NEVER live down the fact she found him face down in a puddle after someone got the drop on him. 

_THUMP_

_SPLASH_

“OH MY GOSH! Are you okay?” Clint suddenly realized he was looking at the carpet, and his foot was in the air. “Hey, are you okay?”

“ ‘sfine.” He muttered as he picked up the now empty cup and pulled himself up from the floral carpet. 

A brownish red headed woman looked out down at him. She wore a small necklace of something and there was a small scar on her hand. “Hey.” She said as she reached out. “Need help?” 

As she helped him stand up, he noticed a few laugh lines around her eyes, and very little make up. Just enough to highlight. It matched that blue plaid shirt she wore well. “Laura. My name’s Laura.”

“Clint.” He muttered as he shook her hand. “Sorry about tripping over your-” He stifled a yawn.

“Ah, got it.” She chuckled. “Take a seat, okay? You are CLEARLY not fit to walk around like that.”

“I… I got to meet someone in a few hours. I-” He rubbed his eyes. Fury. Natasha. They would worry.

“If you can’t walk around a nearly empty coffee shop, you are NOT going around New York city. Sit.” She crossed her arms as she looked at him. He could tell she was noticing for the first time the myriad of small scars. The cut on his cheek from when Natasha first fought him. The clip on his ear from when Barney tried knife throwing. The hearing aids from when Barney deliberately set off a canon next to his head so that… actually Clint wasn’t sure why he did that other than Barney was angry that Clint was trying to turn over a new leaf. They hadn’t seen each other after that, so Clint had never asked if Barney was trying to kill him, deafen him, or scare him off. “SIT.”

Clint did so. As he sat down, he noticed the book in front of her place for the first time.

“Aw, coffee, no!” He muttered as he grabbed her book and set it upright. The coffee streaked down the page, making it just look worse. He looked frantically around for napkins, but she just chuckled. 

“It’s fine. I didn’t-”

“Let me buy you a new book.” He said quickly. “What was it? Maybe we can get it from a nearby book store-” 

She hesitated slightly. “It was about farming.” She said after a moment, chewing her lip. “I inherited some tracks from my great uncle-”

“I’m sorry.”

“He was old. Anyway, part of the will is I have to farm it for five years. Keep up the family tradition and all of that.” She poked the book. “I don’t think it’s in the bookstores-”

“Well, we can look? Or I can get you another book anyway in case it’s not there. I just feel really bad about this.” He grimaced as he looked down at the yet more stained book. 

“Let me get you a coffee and then we can talk about it.” She smiled. 

“But, I tripped-” 

“Over my bookbag. It was in the middle of the pathway. It’s partially my fault.” She shook her head. “You’re not going to argue out of this one, Clint. Just, sit.”

The red seats were MUCH more comfortable than plane seats anyway.

Five minutes later, Laura found Clint snoring on her table. She sighed and pulled out her second book.

28 minutes after that, she put a fresh cup of coffee under Clint’s nose after she removed every book from the surface of the table. 

Without even opening his eyes, he reached out and grabbed the cup. As soon as it was in his hand, he opened his bright blue eyes and then realized he had drooled on the table.

“Better?” She asked. Clint just drank the coffee. “You were out for about a half an hour.”

“Thanks.” he muttered. He could feel parts of his brain clearing up as an ache in his back faded. 

“Do you come here for the Workjuice?” She asked after he put the cup down for the first time.

“Highest caffeine legally allowed.” He said. “My friend suggested it. She heard it on this podcast, Thrilling Adventure Hour? I.. can’t hear it all the time.” Her eyes flicked to his hearing aid. “She writes transcripts for me.”

“She?” Laura asked.

“Yes, Nat. She’s a good friend.” He didn’t smile.

“How long have you been going out?” Laura asked after a second.

“What?” Clint looked up, then it clicked. “What? NO! Oh, no. She’s like half my age. I like her a lot, but not like that.” He chuckled. “She’s…. she’s had a tough life. She doesn’t want a boyfriend now. Eventually, maybe? but not me.” He took another sip. “So, there’s a book shop around the corner…”

“Sure.” Laura agreed, as she stood up. 

Clint, after a second, did too. This time, actually looking out for the bag on the floor. 

They hadn’t gone more than a few feet then a dog sprinted out in front of them. 

“Whoa, hold on.” Clint grabbed the dog, a retriever, before it could sprint into traffic. “Well, look at you. You seem to be doing okay for yourself. What’s your name?” He searched for a collar. None. “Hmm. hey, boy. Do you want to come with me? I think I can find an owner for you. That way you don’t have to run into traffic anymore.” The dog panted, then bolted back into the alleyway. He sighed, and Laura gently slipped her hand into his jacket pocket. 

“I couldn’t take care of dog anyway.” he muttered. 

“Well, it’s good that you cared. Come on.” She said as she led the way to the store. 

 

One week later, Laura’s phone rang.

“So, uh, I was finally doing laundry and I found your number in my jacket pocket. Do you want to grab a burger tomorrow?” 

“That sounds great.” 

“Good, there’s a good joint down a few blocks. None of the franchise stuff. It just makes these really great-” 

“Clint, I can hear you yawning. Get some sleep.”

“Yeah, fine.” He muttered. “I’ll meet you at that coffee shop at 5?”

“See you then.” Laura hung up with a smile, and she went back to her book.


	2. Chapter 2

Two weeks after that, Clint had yet again fallen asleep, this time in her apartment. The TV muttered in the background as he snored on her shoulder. Laura chuckled, and slid him onto the couch. He muttered something, and turned. 

Laura just chuckled and walked off towards her library. She hummed something to herself as she looked through her book shelves until she pulled out a biography of DB Cooper. She stood there for a second, smelling the book pages, her toes in her plush, red, carpet she had stolen from a garage sale. The sunlight streamed in behind her, illuminating her bookshelves in a mix of deep browns and bright white. 

“Laura?” Clint muttered from the doorway. “Did I fall asleep?”

“Yeah, around 2.” She shook her head. “Star Wars marathon, not for the faint of heart.” 

“Episode two has too much politics for my taste.” He yawned. “That tends to put me to sleep.” 

“Yeah, well, Flechette method.” Laura replied. “Four, Five, One, Two, Three, and Six. Doesn’t end on a downer ending or a spoil a lot for someone’s first time.”

“I saw Star Wars.” Clint started to say, but stopped when he saw her raised eyebrow. “Fine, the first one.” 

“You want some tea?”

“Coffee. I can make pancakes though.” Clint said as he stretched. “Bathroom?”

Laura gestured off to a room and he slipped down the hall. Just a few feet away was her apartment’s kitchen. Small, and also filled with items from thrift stores, flea markets, and garage sales. Her red kettle had a tarnished bottom and the blue plates that graced her shelves had a few fractured edges, The In fact, one of the plates was rolling off her shelves right now.

“Oh-” She shouted and reached for the little ceramic plate with the monkey on it. That was her favorite one!

But Clint caught it an inch off the floor.

“I can fix that, if you want.” Was all he said as he lifted it off the floor. “Coffee?”

“For Pancakes. Batter is-” She gestured towards the pantry, but he sniffed, and began to pull out flower, baking powder, salt, sugar…

“You have milk, eggs, and butter?” he asked as he leaned out from the pantry’s doors.

“Fridge. What are you-” she asked, but he was already opening the door and pulling out the ingredients, then started searching for something else. “Bowls?” She gestured, then went back to making her tea and coffee. Soon the smell of pancakes floated from the stove. Laura leaned back for a second, and let her eyes glance across his well muscled shoulders and arms. 

“Hey, Clint, what’s your dayjob?” She asked. No response, She sighed, and walked across the linoleum, past the short wooden shelves and then tapped his shoulders.

“Gah!” Clint shouted and turned. His hand started to reach for her wrist, then he realized who it was and pulled it back. “Don’t SCARE me like that.”

“Sorry, forgot about your hearing aids. I was wondering what your dayjob is?”

“... Security.” He muttered after a second. Then they both started to smell smoke. 

As Clint rushed to flip the pancakes, Laura quickly opened the window and let the fresh air whisk away the smoke from over the stove. 

As it whafted away, she felt Clint wrap his arms around her. And then he held a plate full of slightly burnt pancakes under her nose.

“Hungry?”

“Yes please.”  
***  
“So,” Clint said as he took a bite. “It was just me and my brother for a while. Do you have any family?”

“Some, we don’t really keep in touch. I’m not angry or anything at them. We just… stopped talking.” She said before she took a drink of orange juice. “I guess that happens a lot.” 

“Sometimes.” Clint agreed. “So, why do you prefer Star Wars over Star Trek?” 

“It’s not that. It’s-”  
_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK_

“Who the heck is knocking on my door at 8 AM?” Laura asked as she stood up. Clint, behind her, grabbed a knife. Slowly, he followed her, the knife clenched in his hand. It wouldn’t do a lot of damage, but it could buy some time. She looked back, rolled her eyes, and opened the door to a completely ordinary middle aged man with brown hair and blue eyes.

“PHIL?” Clint asked. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. You need to come in. Hello, miss…”

“Laura.” She said as she folded her arms. “You know Clint?” 

Clint Barton looked away as Phil Coulson gave him a raised eyebrow.

“We work together.” he said finally.

“In Security.” She said, slightly sarcastically. 

“Yes, surprisingly. Clint? We need you. Now. Natasha is already waiting.” 

“Is it that-” Clint sighed.

“Yes.” Was the one word reply. Coulson pulled out a file from underneath his arms. “I got it waiting for you, and a car. I hope you enjoyed your night last night.”

“What? Phil! It wasn’t like that. I fell asleep watching Star Wars.” Clint protested. 

“How do you fall asleep watching STAR WARS?” 

“POLITICS! You know how-” He coughed before he went on. “Sorry, Laura.”

“It’s fine.” She waved her hand. “I was thinking about going antiquing at the farmer’s market today but if you have work.”

“Yes. I do.” He absently gave her a quick hug, not even realizing he had done so until he smelt her shampoo. He stepped back quickly. “I… go.” And he grabbed his jacket and walked out the door. 

“He does, actually.” Coulson said as he turned to follow. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Laura.” 

“Go! Go” She rolled her eyes and closed the door in his face. With a sigh, she went back to her pancakes.

There was nothing worse than cold pancakes.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by random conversations, headcanons, and I'm doing this instead of studying.. Also I BrOT6 the team and any relationship between them feels weird. I REALLY like friendly Clintasha, like the "Best buds that know you inside and out and don't even need to talk to you to know exactly what you need." but partly due to Scarlett Johansenn's and Jeremy Renner's age differences I don't like them romantically.


End file.
